


Extra Credit

by thingsiwontadmittohavewritten



Series: Kinktober2019 [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aged up characters, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal, Dildos, Dom Derek, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, F/M, Fucking Machines, Light Dom/sub, No underage, Oral, Sexual Roleplay, Sub Lydia Martin, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Vaginal, adult character pretending to be a high school student, characters are all adults, off screen consent, off screen negotiations, oh there actually was a tag for that, pretending to be a teacher, roleplaying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 17:51:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21275264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingsiwontadmittohavewritten/pseuds/thingsiwontadmittohavewritten
Summary: Lydia needs a perfect grade, luckily Mr. Hale has already thought of something to give her extra credit~OR~Approx. 2k words about dildos without ever using that wordDay 18/Fucking machine





	Extra Credit

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a thing somewhere and while this only marginally has anything to do with it, this particular idea wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it.  
Unbeta'd so the tenses are all over the place (tell me where they are and what to change it into and I will)
> 
> As always: Kudos and comments are welcomed and encouraged, I hope you'll enjoy this little thing and that it'll make sense outside of my halfasleep mind :)

Drying off after her morning shower, Lydia quickly dresses in dark grey thigh stockings, plaid mini skirt in muted blues; reds; and light greys, and a purple blue button down shirt, then she put on her make-up - nothing much, just mascara and her favorite red lipstick - before slipping into her black lace up heel boots and she’s off to school.

She knocks on Mr. Hale’s office door precisely at 7.15, nervously adjusting the hem of her skirt while waiting for him to grant her entrance. It came before she could move to wondering if maybe she should’ve buttoned her shirt, considering.  
Mr. Hale’s office looked the same it always did, dim lighted and a little cluttered but with a pleasant smell of some sort of incense or the like. The man himself was in his usual dress pants, crisp white shirt and blazer and bend over what was most likely homework he’d be handing back to his students.

“Good mo…” he looked up his greeting trailing off as he sees her. “Lydia?” his voice filled with disbelief, “I didn’t expect to see _you_ here this early.” He pushes the papers aside making it clear she’s got his full attention. Lydia gingerly sits down in the uncomfortable chair in front of the desk, shifting her weight and groaning at the sensations inside her.

“Good morning Sir,” she’s interrupted by a raised hand.

“Mr. Hale will suffice, Lydia, seeing as we’re not in class.”

She bites her lip nervously. “Of course. Mr. Hale, I wanted to ask,” her voice disappears as she looks down at her hands, trying to gather her thoughts. Then she looks up, determined; “I need a perfect record, Mr. Hale, and I was hoping you would help me achieve this."

Mr. Hale frowns, confused rather than angry, “I’m assuming you’ve completed the assignment,” she nods and he continues “then you’re ensured a C.”

“I know, Mr. Hale, but,” her voice wavers a bit, then she looks at him imploringly. “_Pleeease_, Mr. Hale.”

He closes his eyes, rubs at the bridge of his nose and then finally nods as he pushes back his chair. “I’ll take a look at your work, and if - and only _if_, Lydia - I’m satisfied with it, we’ll get started right away.” She smiles eagerly, puts her palms to the top of the desk, spreads her legs and leans forward; there’s the sound of latex gloves snapping onto skin and then Mr. Hale’s broad shoulders are nudging her legs further apart, his breath tickling the inside of her thighs.

“You did this by yourself?”

“For the past three days, yes. I-I-I needed help at first,” Lydia stammers the last part of her confession, a blush rising in her cheeks.

“Good; there’s nothing wrong with asking for help,” she can hear him get up from the floor and take a few steps to the supply closet; there’s the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor, a gloved hand grabbing the base to do what she doesn’t know and can’t see. Then there’s a mechanical whirring sound and Mr. Hale sits back at the desk.

“Now, I’ll have to be done with these before the bell rings,” he indicates the papers he’s pulling closer, “so I need you to be quiet. Can you do that Lydia?”

She wants to answer but the words are pushed from her lips in a harsh exhale as something _shoves_ inside her, vibrate against her walls for a minute before retreating and the pushing back up. Lydia’s soon lost in the rhythm and being quiet and the scrape of Mr. Hale’s pen on paper.  
The shrill sound of the bell startles her though thankfully not enough she loses her footing and she watches as Mr. Hale turns off the computer monitor, puts the papers inside his briefcase before looking carefully at Lydia.

“If you want to stop now, I’ll give you a C+,” Lydia looks at him, her eyes slightly glazed and her mouth hanging half open. He grabs her chin and when she focuses he repeats the offer. As expected she turns it down.  
“In that case I’ll see you at lunch. Stay here and do try to keep quiet, I would hate having to answer awkward questions as to why I allowed a student to stay in my office during classes.” With that he’s gone, the door closing softly behind him.

The vibrations are back though she can barely enjoy them with the rabbit fast shallow thrusts she’s currently treated to. A second’s pause and suddenly they go deep and slow, so deep she wonders if maybe it’ll poke out of her mouth soon. She uses the thought to distract herself just as it stops vibrating and starts speeding up; not as fast as at the shallow thrusts but enough she knows she’ll be able to feel it tomorrow.

Lydia has no way of telling the time but she does occasionally hear people in the hallway though most of the time it’s just eerily quiet, everybody being in class. Her legs are trembling, her shirt rough on her painfully hard nipples and she falls over the precipice without warning though she manages to remain quiet - not silent, but hopefully quiet enough nobody could’ve heard.

She’s lost count when the door opens, closes and Mr. Hale is once more standing in front of the desk. He brings the monitor back to life, clicks around for a while humming to himself before stepping out of her field of vision, once more the sound of something being dragged across the carpet and Mr. Hale being a solid presence behind her.

“I’ve been meaning to ask. Who helped you?”

Lydia, lost between the pleasure coursing through her veins and the pain of the repeated thrusting, can barely understand the words but eventually slurs;  
“B-b-boyfriend.”

“But of course. The captain of the basketball team, correct?”  
Her head falls forward and she hopes he’ll interpret it as a nod. If she had been more lucid she’d have thought she heard him exclaim AHA, but she chalks it up to her imagination.

Mr. Hale doesn’t say anything further, resumes humming to himself, a few metallic clangs making their way through the haze she’s in. A rush of air is cool against her ass cheeks as her skirt is lifted, something rounded poking between them causing her to tense up and make a pitiful, high sound that barely manages to transform into a single “please.” The thing disappears and Mr. Hale is once more grabbing her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye.

“We can stop here and, seeing as you’re my favorite student, I will change your grade to a B. But if you want to change a C to an A, merely repeating this year’s curriculum isn’t going to be enough.” Mr. Hale lets his words sink in before continuing; “there’s a reason I only allow the best scoring students to enroll in my honor’s class.”

Lydia, getting her breath back as nothin’s moving inside her at the moment, looks at him at him with fire in her eyes: “I will get my A, Mr. Hale, and I will be the best honor’s student you’ve ever had.” He grins at her, lets go of her chin and disappears behind her once more.

If asked she’d guess it was smaller than the other though it doesn’t really feel that way with the force behind it. “A head start on next year’s curriculum then,” Mr. Hale whispers in her ear, taking his seat and looking intently at her as she’s pushed back and forth by the mechanical thrusts of the machines. Lydia’s panting, her arms straining against the desk and legs shaking worse than before.

Her clothes feel like burlap against her sensitive skin that feels two sizes too small, her hair hangs heavy and sweat wet around her face clinging to her face and neck. It feels like there’s not enough oxygen in the room, her chest heaving with shallow breaths causing her nipples to rub even more eagerly against her shirt. Lydia wants to scream though she isn’t entirely sure if it would be in agony or ecstasy, but at the last moment remembers Mr. Hale’s orders and instead bite her lower lip bloody keeping it in.

The movements change again; when one push in the other pulls out, the speed slowly increasing to the point where the sensations blur together and she feels incredibly, uncomfortably, blissfully, full. Lydia’s hardly aware that Mr. Hale slowly eats his lunch, unable to look away from her; doesn’t notice him write something on his computer while still looking at her and then grabbing his briefcase, once more getting ready to leave.

For a moment they slow and she regains her senses, Mr. Hale’s breath warm and smelling of the tuna salad he just ate making her wrinkle her nose. He chuckles and whispers “later”, the click of the door announcing his departure.  
Again the first one starts moving, just sits there and vibrates against her, the other switching between shallow but fast and slow but deep; Lydia feels like she’s choking on it even as she clenches down around it, her release crashing down leaving her a panting, crying mess just barely able to keep on her feet.

When Mr. Hale comes back the next time she gets to follow his preparations. Sees the machine he brings from the supply closet and places on the desk. It’s smaller than she would’ve thought, looks like the ‘body’ of an exercise bike with and arm-like extension that Mr. Hale adjusts to the height of her face.  
He rummages through the closet once more and comes back with three different phallic shapes, placing each of them on the arm-thing, considering them carefully. In the end he takes the smallest of them and attaches it to the machine.

“Last part, Lydia,” he looks pleased by the sight she’s making and Lydia preens, knows she’s got her perfect grade within grasp. “Open wide.” She obediently opens her mouth, the silicone heavy on her tongue. Unlike the others Mr. Hale gives her a few minutes to adjust to having it in her mouth before starting the machine.

It’s not as fast as the others had been, the pace almost snail like as it crawls across her throat, knocks against her uvula and proceeds past her tonsils down her throat. Lydia gags but the thing keeps going, going, going until it can’t get any further and just as slowly pulls back the same way. It immediately pushes back and she desperately tries to relax her throat, the second descend going much smoother.

Slowly it, too, picks up the pace though not as fast as the other two. She gets the hang of the rhythm - the first one rabbit fast in-out-in-out-in, the second a bit slower out-in and the third going in on their first run through and out on the second - and can focus on keeping her mouth open and relax when it goes down her throat.

There’s a flash of light that startles her and then Mr. Hale is just there, one large hand at the small of her back the other next to hers on the desk, thumb stroking the back of her hand soothingly.

And then they all just stops and Lydia’s body feels like one gaping hole where she’s no longer filled to the point of bursting, Mr. Hale catching her as her knees buckle beneath her and lowering her to the floor. She’s aware there are noises indicating he’s putting the machinery away but right now she can’t even manage to open her eyes.

She wakes somewhere warm and soft, held against a naked chest, a glass of water brought to her lips from which she drinks greedily. She presses closer to the body behind her, an arm tightening slightly around her waist.

“You passed with flying colors, Sweetheart,” she can hear the proud smile in her voice and she sinks back into sleep with a smile on her lips; she can take care of the thing poking her in the back next time she wakes.

**Author's Note:**

> Is there something in particular you'd like me to write?  
Leave me a prompt either in the comments or at madhatter9112@gmail.com :)


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